


Makeover

by Trychtopus



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: First Time, Lingerie, Multi, Shyness, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trychtopus/pseuds/Trychtopus
Summary: Sam takes Monica up on her original offer for a makeover, but there's a catch.
Relationships: Marshall Law/Sam Young/Monica McKenzie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 103





	Makeover

“Monica, what if I don’t look like me anymore?” Sam surveyed the veritable ocean of pots and jars and palettes and brushes that littered the table in front of her, wondering for the thousandth time how anyone could possibly navigate all of the colors and textures and put it all together into something that actually looked as good as Monica managed to on a daily basis. She’d agreed to the makeover after all, but had drawn a firm line in the sand between her and Monica recording it, nowhere near comfortable enough advertising that particular transformation. Monica had agreed, though her compromise was that Sam had to show  _ somebody  _ her masterpiece, and with Charles being far too terrifying of an option, they’d settled on Marshall together. Sam could hear him in the adjacent room doing a video recording, completely unaware of what the girls were getting up to in secret.

“Come on, you doubt my skills that much?” Monica smirked at her and waggled a tube of mascara in front of her mischievously. They’d already done some prep work, with Sam’s eyebrows freshly plucked and a whole lecture on appropriate skincare, but the quiet gamer could see as plain as day that this was the moment that the other woman had been waiting for since the day they’d met. “There are a lot of people out there who would pay big money for a makeover by GlitzKitten, ya know.”

“They’d probably deserve it more than I do--”

Monica moved quickly, tilting Sam’s chin up with the same tube of mascara, and gave her a stern look. “Nope, none of that. You’re beautiful, Sam. I’m just gonna help you see it a little bit better.”

Sam blinked at her in return, stunned into silence by her aggressive affection, and stayed silent for a few minutes as Monica worked. She had no idea what the products were, nor did she quite understand their purpose, but they smelled nice and they made her skin feel good, and Monica’s fingers were gentle as they blended and patted and assessed. The attention  _ did  _ feel kind of nice, and Monica was beautiful to look at besides, but try as she might, she found it increasingly difficult to enjoy the pampering as anxiety crept nefariously at the edges of her thoughts. “But...who would I even wear all this for?” She spoke quietly and fought to keep her nose from scrunching against the onslaught of a damp beauty blender. “I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

To her surprise, Monica laughed. “So wear it for  _ you _ , kiddo.”

“I don’t understand.”

Two manicured hands were in her face again, working gently to a soundtrack of murmured phrases like “close your eyes” and “look up” and “try not to blink”. After some time, Monica leaned back and surveyed her work, then waved off Sam’s confusion casually. “Wear it for you. Not a man, or a boss, or anybody else. Makeup is supposed to make you feel good for  _ you _ , and if someone else enjoys the way you look, it’s just a bonus.” She turned away from her for a moment to survey a tray of lipsticks, lined up like little soldiers in their clear glass stand. Sam watched curiously as she moved toward one, thought better of it, moved toward a second one, shook her head, and finally selected a third option which nearly matched the color of Sam’s lips to begin with. She uncapped it, and instead of applying it directly to Sam’s mouth, she selected a tiny brush from the enormous array laid out in front of her, and dabbed gently at the colored wax while she continued on.

“I don’t do all of this for Marshall, you know,” she motioned briefly to herself, “despite what a lot of people might tell you. I do it because it makes me feel happy and confident, and I like the way I look.” She worked quickly, but carefully, and Sam found herself entranced by how unerringly beautiful Monica was up close while she painted her lips. “All I want to do for you is to help you find what makes  _ you _ feel happy and confident, too, and  _ trust me _ ,” she leaned back with a devilish glint in her eye, “a perfectly winged liner will do  _ wonders _ for that.”

Sam sat obediently while Monica finished with her look, turning her words over in her mind. She’d never really thought of makeup as something to make  _ herself  _ feel good, and if she were honest, the memories of playing with her mom’s makeup as a child did not fill her to the brim with confidence that she would be able to achieve anything that might make her feel much less like a racoon with a hot date. When the internet sensation grabbed her gently by the shoulders and turned her chair toward the mirror, however, Sam couldn’t help but gasp quietly as she took in her appearance.

Monica had taken it easy on her, at least in comparison to her own daily routine, and Sam found herself surprised that she did, in fact, still look like herself, but  _ upgraded _ . She’d gone with a soft combination of neutral colors and just a little shimmer here and there, completing it with an expertly pointed pair of winged stripes on her eyelids and some simple mascara. It was the first time in her life that she felt like she actually looked like a woman instead of a child playing pretend, and with two steady, soft hands bracing her from behind, she reached up, then paused. “C-can I touch it?”

Monica chuckled, a gentle, musical laugh in her ear. “Honey, you could go swimming with it if you wanted to.”

As Sam leaned forward to inspect herself better, Monica took the few clips out of her hair that she’d worn during the makeover, shaking out her brown locks and framing her face. Sam noted curiously that she’d left her hands to rest on the tops of her shoulders, unusually close to her neck, but she’d been so gentle and so close for the last hour that her usual reluctance to allow others into her personal space had seemingly burned out. She ran her fingertips across her cheeks, her eyebrows, her lips, then looked down, stunned to find that, as promised, the makeup had stayed put. “Monica, this is--” she shook her head, trying desperately to memorize her own face, “this is amazing. How did you do it?”

“Oh, well, I know some  _ really  _ good tutorials on ViewTube I could show you…” She waited for Sam to turn toward her as the implication sunk in and raised an eyebrow, smirking at the eyeroll she received in return. “You know, I have something that would really drive this look home, if you’re curious.”

Sam had returned to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to believe she was still looking at the same girl who had left the house this morning. “What do you mean?”

“Makeup is only half of a completed ensemble.” The sudden absence of the hands on her shoulders left a strange coldness in their wake as the pink bombshell took a few strides toward her closet, and Sam watched out of the corner of her eye. “If you really want to complete it, you have to have the right outfit, too.” 

“But I’m not going anywhere.” She finally turned away from her reflection and watched in earnest as Monica filed through her side of Marshall’s closet. It was so unlike her own simple wardrobe, teeming with colors and fabrics and gems and who knows what other secrets within. It wasn’t until the beauty plucked a sheer little thing from the very back that Sam felt the old familiar panic anchor itself with a vengeance. “T-That’s for you, right?”

“Oh of course not, tonight is all about you,” she ignored Sam's squeak as she waltzed up to her, holding the slippery garment up to Sam's body appraisingly. "Besides, what's a little dress up between us girls, hm?" 

"You want me to  _ wear _ this?" 

"Consider it a trust exercise, toots." She motioned toward the closet. "You can get changed in there if you're shy."

Shy didn't begin to cover what Sam was feeling as she took the slip of fabric in her hands. "Monica, I--"

"Come on, live a little." The hands were back on her shoulders, guiding her toward the closet. "Just strip down and put that on. It's easy; just step into it and pull it up around your shoulders. It's gonna look amazing, I promise."

Sam stood awkwardly in the closet, surrounded by clothing that wasn't hers, staring helplessly back at her new spiritual guide for All Things Beauty. "J-just between us?"

Monica smiled softly at her and put a finger up to her lips, a quiet promise to keep her secrets. "One set of boats passing by another."

The reference to their earlier conversation caught Sam off guard and brought a small laugh from her. What a ridiculous metaphor. She held the lingerie out in front of her and glanced sideways at Monica, who was still standing expectantly in the doorway. "You're...not gonna  _ watch _ , are you?"

Her question was answered with a sigh before Monica swung the closet door shut. "Suit yourself, kiddo."

Finally alone in the privacy of a dark closet, Sam sighed to herself. She wasn't even remotely close to comfortable with the idea of revealing herself to someone who was barely more than a stranger at this point, but at the same time, she was so tired of being scared all the time. Charles' patient guidance echoed in the back of her head, reminding her to push her boundaries, and so she reached down to undo the button on her jeans, figuring that the sooner she got this part over with the sooner Monica would finally let her leave.

Still, the girl had done wonders with her makeover, and Sam smiled a little to herself as she undressed. She  _ did _ feel good about the way she looked, and it had been so long since she'd actually enjoyed what she saw in the mirror, she found it a little surprising that the boost in self-esteem bolstered her courage quite a bit. Monica hadn't let her down yet, and although she could be a little... _ aggressive _ in her approach, Sam was beginning to realize that her intentions were apparently pure after all.

She folded her clothes neatly, feeling awkward in her nakedness. It was a little odd to figure it out in the dark; the slinky fabric flowed like water in her hands and made it difficult to find where the arms ended and the legs began. Soon enough, she was able to shake it out and slipped it up over her legs, then shrugged into the top, only then realizing that the torso draped open with no way to secure it.

Her cheeks burned. 

"You doin' okay in there?" Monica tapped her fingernails on the outside of the door and Sam jumped at the noise. 

"Monica, t-there's no way to close this-"

"You're not supposed to," her voice was muffled behind the door but snapped into terrifying clarity as she swung it open, "let me see."

Sam clamped shut on the garment and folded her arms over her breasts in a panic, but Monica was gentle in her approach and guided her out of the closet with a soft, warm hand. Planting her in front of the mirror once more and ignoring the scarlet blush that began to spread down to Sam's chest, Monica grasped lightly at her hands and pulled slowly until they lie at her sides. Sam's eyes were shut tight, her body trembling, so the beauty vlogger took advantage of her momentary distraction to adjust the lingerie on the pale body in front of her and admired what she saw.

She'd never really liked the piece, herself, found it to be a bit too baggy and shapeless for her style. On Sam, though, it hung beautifully, masking the subtle curvature of her petite body and leaving just enough to the imagination to entice. Pleased that her perception was as sharp as ever, she decided to push Sam's boundaries just a little further and tugged gently at the sides of the fabric, revealing some of the supple flesh of her breasts. 

Monica pressed a cheek to the soft curtain of chestnut hair in front of her and smoothed her hands around Sam's hips, coming to rest low on her belly. "Open your eyes, Sam."

Sam did, and the transformation was something wonderful to watch as her face shifted from fear and embarrassment to unadulterated shock. She scarcely noticed the heat of Monica's body pressed up against her own as she took in the sight of herself; an hour ago she'd been little more than a shy girl in awkward clothing, but now, the woman who stared back at her was something out of a fantasy. "I'm...beautiful."

A pair of scarlet lips curled into a Cheshire grin. "You wanna see what else you can do with it?"

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Remember our deal, kiddo."

"Wh- _ what- _ "

"Trust me on this one."

"Like  _ this _ ?!" She whirled, forgetting for a moment that she was nearly nude, and gaped at the woman smirking at her.

"Especially like that," the phrase was simple, almost gentle, but had an underlying tone to it that sent shivers through the both of them. Monica took Sam by the waist and walked behind her, wholly preventing her from escaping like she so desperately needed to. It wasn't nearly a long enough distance to the bedroom door for Sam's tastes, and with each step she took forward, the chill of the air conditioning cut through the lacy garment like ice. Just as Monica reached forward and pushed the door open with a silent swish, Sam looked down at her hardened nipples and gulped.

"Hey babe, what do you think?"

As time often tended to do in moments of tremendous fear, everything slowed down to a crawl. Sam could hear Marshall's response as if she were underwater and she began to tremble, hardly comforted by the feminine hands that still rested firmly on her hips.

"Oh, did you ladies finish up? Give me a second here, Kitten--" 

There were so many things happening at once, between Monica's fingernails skittering up her sides seductively and Marshall turning toward them in his massive chair, sipping enthusiastically from a bottle of water, to the lingerie that draped over her shoulders and chest being pulled  _ just a touch  _ wider. Before she could do anything about it, she watched as Marshall glanced over the two of them. With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, it was difficult to catch the deep cough that erupted from the man as he spat his water out, eyes on her like saucers.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Monica's voice from above her, an amused purr, her fingers making their way up her body to glide affectionately through her hair. 

Marshall continued to sputter for a few seconds, his eyes darting between Sam and Monica. Sam noticed him flexing his hands for a second before he hastily crossed his legs, pulling his sweatpants into a wide drape across his lap. His mouth worked on a few syllables to no avail, and so he simply settled on openly staring at the two of them, dumbstruck.

Monica giggled and whispered to her, her gaze never leaving the man in front of them. "What did I tell you?"

Sam fought a blush and failed miserably, torn between wanting to cover herself and enjoying the way Marshall was looking at her. She was used to being unseen for the most part, had spent most of her life dressing to blend in and pass by unnoticed, but the starving look in his eyes as he raked his stare across her body was as flattering as it was terrifying. Sam pressed herself into Monica's body behind her, grateful for the support while her knees were weak with anxiety, and whispered back: "Wh-what do we do now?"

"Well," she murmured, her tone deceptively light in spite of the tingling sensation her fingernails were bringing to the back of Sam's neck, "I could think of a few things...but this part is up to you." She continued her slow trail down Sam's spine while she spoke, never failing to miss the goosebumps it caused to flourish across the pale landscape of flesh on her chest. "My suggestion is that we put that poor boy out of his misery."

"M-misery?"

"Mmhmm, look at him," her hands were back on Sam's belly now, creeping treacherously slowly upwards, leaving a tender, delicious warmth in their wake. Sam did look at Marshall, who was reclined in a tense position, knee bouncing, knuckles in his mouth, looking much less like a predator now but by no means any less hungry than he'd been the second he'd turned in his chair. "He's all tied up in knots over you."

Sam knew what the offer on the table was. She'd seen quite a few videos of this when she had been doing her...research...but to actually go  _ through  _ with it was another matter entirely. "Monica, I...would have no clue what to do, you know that. Besides, he's yours."

Her hands paused at Sam's ribcage, her voice like melted chocolate pouring over her body. "He could be ours for a night. I know I don't mind. Would you be okay with that, babe?"

Marshall's eyes rolled and slid shut at the suggestion, his head falling into a slow, desperate nod.

"Then it's all up to you, Sam." 

She took a deep breath. It would never really help her to succeed, she'd recently discovered, to constantly run from situations that frightened her, and especially not with guidance. She thought for a moment about how it had felt to chase after Charles after the elevator had nearly closed on her, and how good it had felt to walk out of that meeting with her head high knowing that she'd been braver than she ever had in her life. Resolving to keep that same momentum as much as she could, she reached up and placed her hands over Monica's, then slid them further up her body until they cupped her breasts together.

"I think… I think maybe I'd like to try."

"Good choice, kiddo." Monica pulled one of her hands loose and extended it toward Marshal, curling her finger up into a  _ come hither _ motion. When he'd dutifully stood, Sam finally realized why he'd crossed his legs, as the prominent tent of his manhood pressing against his sweatpants was completely visible now. She felt her skin go crimson immediately, but as he approached the two of them, he took her chin in his fingers as gently as he could, and tilted his head toward her. 

"You sure about this? You don't need to feel obligated, you know. You look amazing, but I got all the visuals I need for the spank bank, so--"

A hand whipped from behind Sam's head and smacked Marshal playfully. 

Sam grinned at him and reached up to take his hand into hers, pulling it away from her face and smoothing a thumb across the knuckles. "It's okay. I appreciate it, but I really do want this."

His boyish smile was warm and playful in response, and with one final glance up at Monica, he lifted Sam's hand to his mouth and nibbled at her knuckle as he'd done to his own earlier. "Yosh." 

Before he could pull Sam into a kiss, however, Monica reached over and pressed a finger against his lips, then pointed behind her at the bedroom. Sam watched curiously as his eyebrows rose and he grinned a little, then disappeared behind them. Sam moved to follow but was stopped by Monica's arms around her, eliciting a tiny, shocked gasp as she felt her left nipple being rolled lightly. "Just follow my lead, okay? And remember that you can say no at any point, no matter what we're doing."

Sam didn't quite trust herself to speak anymore and so she settled for nodding, allowing Monica to slide her glasses off with one hand while the other still teased her. Soon enough, the sultry beauty vlogger was leading her back into the bedroom, where Marshall lie on the bed, nude and impatient, but waiting. Sam tried--and failed--to keep her eyes from drinking in the sight of his body, unsure as to why it felt like the first time all over again since the fiasco when she'd bumped into him on his morning run. Her eyes lit upon his enormous manhood that sat in the groove of his hip and she squeaked involuntarily, tearing her eyes away as quickly as she'd seen it. 

Monica turned from where she'd sat Sam's glasses on the nightstand and laughed when she'd realized what had happened, lazily dragging two of her fingernails down the length that lie thick and swollen under her touch as she padded back toward Sam. Marshall let out a low, keening moan filled with need, and Sam finally realized what Monica's intent was: they were going to tease him first. She blinked, trying to adjust her blurred vision, and allowed herself to be pulled up and onto the bed.

It was quick work to rid Monica of her clothing, a simple tank and leggings for lounging through their girl time. Sam stared openly as her breasts bounced lightly when they caught on the fabric before deft fingers made quick work of her bra, which was promptly chucked to the floor.

Monica wasted no time then, leaning over top of her boyfriend and placing her lips against Sam's, her palm cradling the brunette's face. If the way Sam had startled at her touch had bothered her, she didn't show it, instead moving to deepen the kiss while she used her free hand to worry the peaked flesh she'd neglected earlier. Sam gasped then, the touch rougher than it had been earlier but not unpleasant, and leaned into the sensation. 

"Oh my God, this is so hot-"

"Shh." Sam cried out quietly while Monica cut off Marshall's exclamation, her fingers never ceasing in their manipulation of her body as she scolded the man underneath them. Only his own, deep growl of need served as their soundtrack as Monica returned to her, taking her by both hands and encouraging Sam to sink her fingers into the shimmery pink mane in front of her. Their mouths met once more as Sam took the advice, marvelling at how soft the other women's hair was, and while their tongues slid lazily against each other, she finally started to relax just enough to begin enjoying herself. 

Monica was so soft and feminine and unlike anything Sam had ever experienced as she let her hands droop, taking in the way the dewy skin felt against her palms, not quite brave enough to mirror her actions but still willing to try. Her heart thundered in her chest as she smoothed her fingers along Monica's arms, coming to rest over hands that had pressed her breasts together. She had only just glanced down to admire the way they looked in her grasp when the other woman dipped her head to bury her face into them, sneaking a tongue out to taste.

Below them, Marshall couldn't resist the temptation any longer and raised both of his hands, bracing them at the lower backs of the ladies entertaining themselves above him. He'd done some pretty wild things in the past, but few could top the two individuals in his bed at the moment. He watched, transfixed, as his beautiful girlfriend took one of Sam's nipples between her teeth and flicked playfully at it with her tongue, smirking at the sound it pulled from the normally shy, quiet girl. The lingerie still hung from Sam's body, draping her petite frame in the sheer black fabric as if made from a shadow and he drank in the sight of her, still unable to believe that such a body had been hidden in plain sight this whole time.

His hands dared lower, Monica arching into his touch and Sam too distracted to care, until he hovered obediently, knowing that he'd be scolded if he moved forward without permission. To his surprise, the vixen grinned back at him and released her hold on Sam only long enough to purr, "Go ahead, it's crotchless."

"What?" Sam finally caught up and stared suspiciously at her two captors. "What do you mean-- _ aah!" _

Marshall chuckled, pausing just a moment before sliding his middle finger deep inside of her. Monica continued her work, leaving careless little lipstick marks like badges across the landscape of Sam's body. Sam shivered, caught deliciously between the slick heat of the beauty guru's mouth on her and Marshall's expert ministrations teasing her from the inside out. It was intoxicating, the rush of pleasure and attention, and she reached down to brace herself against his thigh, breathless.

"Come on, Kitten. Let me at her." He shivered at her touch, the coldness of her fingers contrasting sharply with the heat of his body. "I promise I'll play nice."

Monica hummed her approval and moved to turn Sam, helping her straddle the trim waist underneath them. Almost instantly, Marshall grabbed her firmly from behind and scooted her forward to sink his face in between her legs, breathing in deep and groaning at the scent of her. Before he could settle in, however, she was gone as quickly as she'd appeared, lifting herself under Monica's guidance and turning to face the other woman. 

Sam froze for a moment, unsure of the position, and glanced down behind her where Marshall waited hungrily. "W-won't I crush you?"

He answered her by wrapping his hands around her thighs and bringing her down upon him with a vengeance, sinking his tongue deep inside of her. The squeal that escaped her body in response was swallowed by a luscious, dominating kiss by the bombshell who had quietly slid her man inside of her own body, shivering at the sensation of being filled completely.

Sam cried out, muffled by the swollen lips crushed against her own. Marshall was working her deliberately, alternating between thrusting his tongue into her entrance and trailing it through her glistening petals to lap indelicately at the bundle of nerves Sam had yet to even realize was there to be used. Her thighs shook violently as a tremulous feeling built in the pit of her belly. Fortunately, Marshall held them tightly and continued without mercy, and Sam toppled forward to bury her face into the side of Monica's neck when her climax ripped through her body. 

Monica held onto her tightly while she thrust her hips at a slow pace, using her body to milk a tortured groan from the man who kept his face buried firmly into Sam's center. It was only after the brunette had ridden it out that Monica shifted, sliding up and off of Marshall and lying next to him instead, guiding Sam down until her back was firmly pressed to her chest. As Marshall shifted to kneel between their legs, Monica tucked Sam's hair behind her ear, allowing her lips to brush against her earlobe while she whispered to her. "Relax, this is going to feel good."

The tension in Sam's body was nearly tangible as Marshall guided her thighs apart and rubbed the head of his weeping erection against her, teasing her swollen clit almost affectionately. Before he got too far, he reached over both of them to the drawer in the nightstand and slid it open, momentarily distracted by the temptation to lay a trail of wet, starving kisses along Sam's collar bone. He plucked a condom from the drawer and tore it open with his teeth, then took care to plant a chaste, playful kiss on Monica's cheek. She answered by swiping her tongue across his jawline and grinned. "Make her moan, babe."

Sam watched as Marshall winked at the request, a wide smile complimenting his handsome features. His playful nature sort of put her at ease despite the awkward position, and even as he returned to his earlier place to wrap himself and rolled his shoulders, Sam couldn't help but giggle. Noting this, he expertly transitioned into an overly dramatic series of stretches, making a show of preparing for his feast. Even Monica had to chuckle from beneath her as she watched, rolling her eyes, eager to proceed but unable to keep a straight face.

Without any further antics, Marshall slid himself all the way down through Sam and into Monica, matching her surprised gasp with a thick growl. He thrust, his pace slow and aggressive, and soaked in the way Sam's breasts bounced with the force of his hips. His hands found their way to her center and he matched his pace with two fingers inside of her, thumbing at her bundle of nerves with the other. The groan that escaped her body sent lightning through all three of them.

It wasn't long before Monica's hands crept back to Sam's chest, clutching at the ample mounds in a feverish haze and teasing her nipples to hardened perfection. She let loose a breathy moan at the feeling of Marshal stretching her sinfully and as she watched him plunder Sam with his hands, she couldn't resist teasing her further. "It feels good, doesn't it? His fingers inside you like that?"

Sam's head dipped back onto her shoulder, brows drawn and lips tight in a silent hiss. 

"You know it's going to feel even better when he slides that thick cock inside of you, nice and slow." She glanced up at Marshall who was fixated on the two of them, just barely able to take the hint over his interest in the silky words that tumbled from her lips. He moved accordingly, replacing his hands with something much larger, and as he teased Sam's entrance with his swollen head, she cried out for him in frustration and need.

"You want it, don't you?" Monica's voice slipped into her like black satin. The boldness of her words made Sam blush, deeply, but somehow the things she was saying spurred her further at the same time. She nodded and chewed at her bottom lip, canting her hips to try and fit more of Marshall inside of her, but he held fast, smiling quietly down at the two of them, only allowing Sam an inch or two of relief. 

"Tell him what you want, Sam." Monica punctuated her command by reaching down to play with her, straddling her pearl of nerves with her fingertips and stroking her lazily. "Look at him. Can't you see how badly he wants you?" She nuzzled against Sam's temple and feigned innocence, adjusting her tone to something far more angelic than what she was doing between the brunette's legs. 

"M-Marshall," Sam hardly recognized her own voice as it escaped her throat, heavy with want, " _ please,  _ I can't...I can't take much more-"

"Come here," he flipped her right leg up onto his shoulder and used it to pull her onto him fully, cussing quietly under his breath as she sheathed him. Sam let out a silent scream, unwittingly hooking her other leg onto the outside of Monica's, unable to resist the onslaught from both of them ravishing her body. As Marshall pounded himself into her, Monica continued to whisper sexy little nothings into her ear, never letting up on the work her fingers were doing to her down below. 

Within moments, Sam fell victim to their double act. Her breath left her in a hiss and she fisted the sheets beneath her, shivering violently against the onslaught of the pleasure that curled through her, white-hot and ruthless. Her two companions held still for a few moments after, cradling her wracked body and soothing her, until Monica leaned close once more and grinned against Sam's temple. "My turn, baby girl."

Marshall pulled himself from her body and placed a kiss against her ankle bone before he released his hold from her thigh. "Roll over for me, okay?"

Weak with pleasure and exhaustion, Sam turned awkwardly, her legs still trembling and unsteady. Once she'd found a comfortable sprawl on top of Monica's body, she watched in fascination as the cool, confident facade she'd gotten used to quickly melted into something much more vulnerable, revealing to Sam the exact moment she knew Marshall seated himself inside of her.

She pressed upward, feeling unusually bold after the encompassing high of her orgasm, and kissed Monica fully, only half surprised when it was returned in a feverish rush. She could feel one of Marshall's hands clutching her from behind, grabbing a rough handful of whatever he could as he kept a brutal pace, using his other hand to insist that Monica reach her climax before he did. Having been denied for most of the evening, the beauty vlogger's body responded in kind.

Sam startled as Monica's hands came down upon her, one fisted in her hair and the other dragging a series of pink parallel lines down the flesh of her back. She came, crying out Marshall's name in a shrill tone, clinging to Sam in a sweaty, beautiful embrace. It wasn't until Sam and Monica both glanced over the brunette's shoulder to gaze at him through a cloud of lust that he could no longer hold himself back and thrust only a few more times before he succumbed to his own pleasure. It was all Sam could do to hold on, staring in fascination at the way his shoulder muscles flexed while he held still, focused entirely on the ecstasy pouring through his body.

What really surprised her, though, was when he collapsed on top of both of them with a delighted sigh, bringing his arms tight to their sides and nuzzling the spot between Sam's shoulder blades.

"Babe, watch out, you're heavy-"

"Yeah, I know, just give me a second. That was wild." He pressed a small kiss to Sam's skin and leaned away from them, giggling to himself. "Hey look, get it?"

"Get  _ what _ ?"

"It's a Sam-wich. See?" He grinned broadly and motioned to the three of them, earning groans from them both.

It wasn't until Monica planted a leg and toppled the three of them that Sam found the energy to laugh, despite the pun, for once only overwhelmed with a feeling of satisfaction and giddiness. She watched as Marshall sauntered off to the bathroom, then turned back to Monica, who was smirking victoriously.

"What is it?"

"Your eyeliner stayed. Acid test." She reached out and thumbed at it gently, then cocked her head. "Can I at least mention that in my review?"

Sam's glare was penetrating, much to Monica's delight.

"Kidding, kidding," she laughed for a moment and then brought the brunette into a close embrace. "But if you ever change your mind, you let me know. Now, let's find your clothes, Samwich."


End file.
